


A Reconciliation

by Genuinelies



Series: A Reunion [1]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, Mention of N'Zoth's Visions, Mentions of N'Zoth, World of Warcraft: Battle for Azeroth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:28:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25480939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Genuinelies/pseuds/Genuinelies
Summary: Wrathion returns to Stormwind after N'Zoth's defeat, though thoughts and insecurities are harder to defeat than Old Gods, it would seem. Anduin, meanwhile, is deciding what freedoms he will take for himself while wearing the burden of the crown.
Relationships: Wrathion/Anduin Wrynn
Series: A Reunion [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1849810
Comments: 24
Kudos: 101





	A Reconciliation

**Author's Note:**

> This was intimidating to write, but I wanted to contribute to this pairing, so I hope you enjoy!

_What lies next for you, Wrathion?_

It was irritating, how much that one little sentence, thrown away surely out of idle curiosity and no true compassion, had stuck in the back of Wrathion’s mind.

 _Ungenerous,_ he chided himself.

The Champions had fought hard by his side, even after all the mistakes they had borne witness to. They were passionate, and carried folly in the attachments they made. He was no exception, surely.

He cared for them, after all, did he not? He was a protector of their mortal lives and the world they called home.

_N’Zoth still lies underneath your thoughts._

That was an unpleasant truth to realize. He had succeeded. Against all odds and perils, against insanity itself, he had prevailed with the help of Magni and the other protectors of the world. He should not still have the barbed taunts lodged under his skin, and yet there he was. With no eyes and demands, he had nothing but his own insecurity as a companion, and the echoes of a mad god still working at whatever soul he had.

_How ironic._

Here he was in the Alliance capital for the sole purpose of ensuring King Anduin’s sanity, and yet it was his own that remained frayed. Anduin was likely fine. Anduin had the Light to cleanse him.

Wrathion’s boots hit the steps of Stormwind Keep. He had considered making a grand entrance by landing on the roof, really scaring the guards out of their tin suits, but he was there to wrap things up and make a graceful departure. He had decided to follow decorum rather than risk angering Anduin’s advisors, for once.

_Let at least one person remember him with fondness, until the next time they came begging for his help._

He saw a guard at the entrance turn tail and run at the sight of him; he didn’t bother to hide his sharp, gently-fanged smile. Good. He would be announced.

“You stand in the presence of the Black Prince,” he called cheerfully to the remaining guards. “I have come for an audience with your king. I have come to collect thanks for the recent services rendered.”

“If you were easier to get ahold of, you would know you’d been invited.”

Anduin Wrynn appeared in the looming entrance to the palace, flanked by yet more guards. His voice was warmly amused.

 _Teasing._ Familiar. It was funny, it was only ever Anduin and his enemies who dared take such a tone with him.

“Invited! The Black Prince, invited into the center of the Alliance! I do hope my reception will be more gracious than the last time I made an appearance.”

He approached Anduin, snaking out tendrils of magic to thread into Anduin’s psyche and aura.

“You deserved that.” Anduin’s tone grew quiet, his face hardening.

“Yes, I suppose I did.”

“Are you done checking me over?” Anduin’s countenance lightened with his words. “Or have you found something?”

Wrathion blinked, and he was annoyed he’d slipped with even that small expression of surprise.

 _Always surprising, King Anduin. Always too perceptive…or just as perceptive as he needed to be._ Something his enemies always discounted and overlooked, Wrathion had noticed.

He blew out a warm breath of relief, and let his senses retract.

“N’Zoth is truly gone from our minds, it would seem,” he said ambiguously. “Forgive me for needing to check for myself…my king.”

Anduin blinked at him in return.

“We’ll have a feast to celebrate,” he said. “I’d thought you might show up one of these days, Wrathion. I’d…hoped you would, I mean. We-the Alliance, the people of all of Azeroth and beyond-we owe everything to you and your perseverance. The Alliance thanks you.”

Anduin bowed to him. Actually bowed. Wrathion watched in pleased fascination, cocking his head, as every onlooker and guard with him followed suit.

Wrathion preened.

 _See?_ He told an absent N’Zoth. _They have not turned on me._ He _has not turned on me. You blustering, tentacled, arrogant creature. I have won. Not you. Your plans for me can rot in the abyss._

“Wrathion?” Anduin was frowning at him. He smiled when their eyes met. “Come inside. I’d like to speak with you more privately, if you have the time.”

“I was going to-”

“Wrathion.” Anduin met his eyes, cutting off the excuse he’d been about to make. Wrathion stiffened in obligatory umbrage, but it dissipated as soon as it appeared. “Please. You deserve to be thanked, and you’re right. The past is the past. I’d like to discuss our future.”

Wrathion hid his surprise at the flicker of vulnerability that crossed Anduin’s features in a heartbeat, and the way his eyes had darted momentarily to their audience.

“And our roles in Azeroth as we move into this future we have earned for ourselves,” he added.

“That seems only natural,” Wrathion rumbled.

_Foolish dragon, reading into his words as always._

He’d done so when they were boys, playing their games in Pandaria; he hadn’t known what his enjoyment of the human prince’s company had meant at the time.

No; it had taken mistakes and distance and N’Zoth’s perverted fantasies to spell that out for him.

 _Anduin Wrynn is a king whose name rings out already in history,_ he reminded himself. _Their petty human customs dictates heirs and alliances far outside of your realm._

He’d already nearly ruined everything between them; he had promised himself to do anything to keep Anduin safe and himself within the circle of his friendship for as long as the other man lived. He wouldn’t break his trust again for anything but the most important of reasons.

He followed Anduin up the sloping hallway to the throne room, his long strides spry and the smirk on his face a beautiful but bright lie. He relished the way the people they passed stared in varying degrees of awe, shock, and fear.

“Stop enjoying yourself so much,” Anduin murmured, apparently catching on. “You’re terrifying my subjects.”

“If the presence of their sworn protector alarms them, then perhaps they deserve a shock,” Wrathion said indignantly. “I have earned a little fun.”

 _Earned._ When had that mattered to him?

Anduin’s widened eyes told him the same question had crossed his mind.

“They are in the presence of one of the last remaining members of the black dragonflight,” Wrathion added testily. “They should be in awe.”

“This way,” Anduin said.

Wrathion looked around them in curiosity as he was led down a quiet wing with guards barring the way until they passed. Their boots clacked against the marble floor, echoing in the cavernous hallway.

“Leave us, please,” Anduin instructed the guards, “And see to the feast tonight. The cooks will know what to do.”

The guards bowed and left. Anduin opened the door in front of them with a flare of magic; he smirked over his shoulder at Wrathion.

“Clever, isn’t it? A charmed lock.” He held open the door until Wrathion passed him to go inside. Anduin followed, shutting the door after them and locking it again with his little trick.

“These are your personal chambers,” Wrathion drawled. “I do hope you don’t have anything inappropriate on your mind.”

 _I would very much like it to be something inappropriate,_ he thought, wistfully.

Anduin smiled at him instead of answering, then crossed the room to sit on his bed.

“Actually, I’d like to discuss something with you,” he said, pulling off his gloves and setting them on the nightstand. He clasped his hands between his knees.

“Our future partnership with regard to the protection of Azeroth, I assume,” Wrathion said, bored already. He went to the large desk and started poking haphazardly with interest through Anduin’s personal effects and writings. “I find myself permanently invested in your health and by extension, the health of the Alliance as it pertains to maintaining balance on Azeroth, if that’s your worry. I have no plans to leave the world unattended, nor to be as…brash as I was once. I miscalculated, thinking I could direct the course of history without its key players. I will keep you informed of any relevant plans, Anduin.”

“Wrathion.” Anduin shook his head when Wrathion looked up at him, a figurine of a lion clutched delicately between his forefinger and thumb. Anduin cleared his throat. “You and I have never exactly done things the traditional way, have we.”

It wasn’t a question.

“Why should we, when tradition usually wastes time on meaningless dances?” Wrathion countered. “I prefer results, and not to waste my time.”

“I’ve been wondering what I would say to you, if I was ever offered another opportunity,” Anduin said. “We left with so much uncertainty, about N’Zoth, about our own sanity…we still have so much work to do. Sylvanas is still out there, and…” He sucked in a breath, and blew it out. “No. I didn’t ask you here to talk about this right now.”

Wrathion tilted his head. “What were you saying about the ‘traditional way’?” He asked warily. He gently set the lion figurine back on the desk, and privately vowed to find Anduin a little dragon to join it. Perhaps he would whittle it himself…it was a whimsical thought.

“We’ve both grown up so much,” Anduin said. “I…had hopes once, you know. Then everything happened the way it did between us, and everyone started telling me what to do…you’d think a king would have more control over his own life, but that isn’t the truth.”

“We all control our own destinies,” Wrathion countered. “To the extent that we allow ourselves to.”

Anduin nodded. “You’re right. And I’ve realized that they can advise me all they like about the state of Stormwind and the Alliance and all the rest, but…not in how I live my life privately.”

He lifted his chin, searching Wrathion’s widening eyes.

“I ceded enough control to N’Zoth for too long without realizing it,” Anduin said. “For all the harm that was caused, there was one service it rendered, and that was showing me the truth of my own heart. You have to know what I’m speaking of.”

Wrathion grew very still.

He’d seen Anduin ripped to shreds. He’d been held captive in his own mind as N’Zoth’s version of the human tortured him with glee. He’d seen himself, eating the young king whole, mad with rage.

Anduin rose and walked toward him. He stopped less than a foot away, their gazes locked.

Wrathion’s tongue darted out to wet his suddenly dry lips.

“This is…unforeseen,” he admitted at last.

It was ridiculous, but he felt like taking a step back.

“I don’t think I’m alone in feeling the way that I do,” Anduin said.

“And if you were, you would be risking your life for offending one such as myself, of course,” Wrathion said to buy himself time to think, though he regretted the words as soon as they left his lips. More so, when Anduin’s face was momentarily crestfallen. It regained its determination a moment later, however.

“I have given everything else to them,” Anduin said, stubbornly. “Everything. Why should I let them take this? Tell me why you are afraid to talk about this with me, please.”

“Because I saw this future,” Wrathion said bitterly, at last. “And it ended with me destroying you and everything you hold dear, Anduin Wrynn.”

“In N’Zoth’s twisted future,” Anduin countered.

“Yes,” Wrathion admitted, with difficulty.

“I trust you to protect me,” Anduin said. “More than anyone else.”

“They expect heirs and a queen, I’m sure-”

“Screw their expectations!” Anduin flushed brightly.

Wrathion’s eyes were wide on Anduin.

“Please. Just tell me what you want, plainly. I don’t want to force my desires on you, but you’ve been my dearest friend, despite everything. There’s no one I’d rather have at my side-”

Wrathion stepped forward, and with the feeling of falling into madness pressed his lips to Anduin’s.

 _Artless._ He should have practiced on others first. This was not well-planned. Why was it that any time Anduin Wrynn was involved, he did reckless, foolhardy things?

Anduin’s tongue was very suddenly in his mouth, wet and perfect. Wrathion made an interesting noise he vowed to try and recreate later so that he could understand _why._ Anduin grabbed his hands and put them on his hips, and Wrathion did him one better, his fingers deftly removing every piece of clothing he could find.

Anduin let him. _He let him._ His only study on such matters had been the worst of tricks, the foulest of experiences in the depths of N’Zoth’s madness.

Anduin pulled back, his eyes dilated, his breath fast and shallow. Wrathion examined him with eager fascination.

“To be clear,” he said, and was momentarily shocked that he sounded out of breath himself, “You are asking me to be your consort.”

Anduin smiled. “I am asking you to be my husband.”

Wrathion rolled the definitions around in his mind to sort out the discrepancies.

“I do not share,” he said, just to be certain. “I do not expect to be shared. What is mine is mine with no exceptions.”

Anduin grinned at him, pared down to his pants and loose silk undershirt. Even still fully clothed, he looked debauched and naked; this was not a king dressed for the public, but a man standing intimately with his lover.

“That is exactly what I would expect of a dragon,” he informed him. “And you can be certain I feel the same way.”

“Which is what?” Wrathion couldn’t help but ask.

 _I have killed most of my own family,_ he thought. He wondered how he could ever accept what Anduin was about to tell him.

“I love you,” Anduin said, simply, per his expectation.

“I wish to protect you with my life,” Wrathion decided. “I wish to destroy your enemies and ensure your success and health and happiness by any means at my disposal.”

Anduin laughed. For a moment, shame-filled and furious, Wrathion thought it was at him. He realized belatedly it was a laugh filled with affection.

“That’s love, Wrathion,” he said. “That’s love.”


End file.
